Greg ran off new "playbills" for the show yesterday since there's a new cast member and director and all. After all the stuff in Greg's bio about him and who he's performed with, he's added a line: "He thanks his lovely bride for her not-so-silent patience." I laughed so hard I cried. Plus, it was very sweet to be personally acknowledged. (I already get an official makeup credit.)
On another note, we received a cast iron reversible grill/griddle--it's way cool. Plus, it's so freakin' heavy you can use it for strength training. The enclosed card said: "Congratulations, but be sure to use this for its intended purpose and not to resolve marital disputes." It came from Greg's brother and his girlfriend. In the thank you note, I responded that I couldn't make any promises and Greg drew a picture of himself eating pancakes with a giant lump on his skull.
I begin to believe that we're not just oddities, but freaks.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Monday, October 03, 2005
A family of killers, and proud of it.
As some of you know, we currently have a problem with our accommodations. We’re in the midst of a NASTY influx of roaches. The last three weeks have been atrocious. In the course of this, we’ve watched them parade like ants under the front door from the hallway. Shy, they are not; one night, I made a lamb curry and they actually congregated on the walls and watched me cook. We’ve gone upstairs to bed to find a couple dozen of the bastards on our white bedroom curtains. We’ve done some basic remediation—no food is left out, dishes are washed and every surface in the kitchen is covered with baking soda because it does discourage them. But still, the disgust level knows no bounds.
Why haven’t we had an exterminator in you ask? That would be because for the past month, the management company has been negotiating with a new exterminator, and nothing can/will be done until they have a signed “action plan”.
In the course of this, we’ve had company. Bill and Brenda were here two weekends ago and Bill had one crawl across is shaved skull in the middle of the night. Dear God, the horror for him, the embarrassment for us. Usually before company, the main objective is to clean the linens and the bathroom. This time it was to be sure we’d vacuumed up all the corpses. There are so many kills in a given night, there’s no point in sweeping them up one by one.
After they left, we purchased expanding foam to fill the gaps between the windowsills and panes as well as those around the doorframes. This has helped a LOT. Twenty-to-thirty sightings a night is now down to three or four. Still gross, but tolerable.
This past weekend, my mom came to visit. She really hates bugs. Doesn’t even like hearing about them. It wasn’t bad for the first couple of days, but then, I made a huge mistake. I forgot to close the deck door while heating up a snack. I turned around and about a dozen were working their way down the wall next to the stairs, with another dozen on the floor approaching me. I got most of them, but we spent the rest of the weekend picking off stragglers. Sunday morning, we heard a crashing while she was in the bathroom—she came out shouting, “I got one!!!!” For the rest of her visit, she too was on the hunt. I was rather proud of her.
However, the situation remains completely intolerable. Our rent is due. We’re weighing our options. Currently, we can’t cook in the apartment without inch-long dinner guests and our walls are in desperate need of repainting. Going out on the deck is right out, because I swear to you, it’s like they’re circling to attack. We’re thinking that we’ll pay half the rent and tell them to charge each of our 1,225 guests a dollar a piece for their share.
Why haven’t we had an exterminator in you ask? That would be because for the past month, the management company has been negotiating with a new exterminator, and nothing can/will be done until they have a signed “action plan”.
In the course of this, we’ve had company. Bill and Brenda were here two weekends ago and Bill had one crawl across is shaved skull in the middle of the night. Dear God, the horror for him, the embarrassment for us. Usually before company, the main objective is to clean the linens and the bathroom. This time it was to be sure we’d vacuumed up all the corpses. There are so many kills in a given night, there’s no point in sweeping them up one by one.
After they left, we purchased expanding foam to fill the gaps between the windowsills and panes as well as those around the doorframes. This has helped a LOT. Twenty-to-thirty sightings a night is now down to three or four. Still gross, but tolerable.
This past weekend, my mom came to visit. She really hates bugs. Doesn’t even like hearing about them. It wasn’t bad for the first couple of days, but then, I made a huge mistake. I forgot to close the deck door while heating up a snack. I turned around and about a dozen were working their way down the wall next to the stairs, with another dozen on the floor approaching me. I got most of them, but we spent the rest of the weekend picking off stragglers. Sunday morning, we heard a crashing while she was in the bathroom—she came out shouting, “I got one!!!!” For the rest of her visit, she too was on the hunt. I was rather proud of her.
However, the situation remains completely intolerable. Our rent is due. We’re weighing our options. Currently, we can’t cook in the apartment without inch-long dinner guests and our walls are in desperate need of repainting. Going out on the deck is right out, because I swear to you, it’s like they’re circling to attack. We’re thinking that we’ll pay half the rent and tell them to charge each of our 1,225 guests a dollar a piece for their share.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Online Transactions
I've been a big fan of the online financial transactions. Until today. I did a quick check of our accounts and noted that for some reason, our last credit card payment, which incidentally had paid off the account, had been "reversed" a.k.a. "returned".
I called the credit card company, explained the situation, mentioned that I had just signed up for the payment service, perhaps there was a problem there. They, said "no", and told me that I had to call my bank. (One and the same company by the way.) But first, he tried to sell me account "insurance". Yeah, something just went wrong with a transaction and you want me to BUY something from you idiots.
I called the bank number and explained the situation. They told me I had to speak to an online account specialist and I was transferred once again. Umm, if you have to speak to a different department regarding online transactions, why do they post the standard number on the webpage? The woman I finally got there told me there was nothing wrong with our account (i.e., plenty of cash) and she had no record of the transaction at all. She then said I needed to speak to the credit card company--back to the very beginning--however, she was able to transfer me directly to "collections".
After 10 minutes on hold, I got another guy who asked if I'd spoken to my bank. I think I deserve massive credit for not screaming obscenities into the phone at this point. He pulled up the transaction histories and asked me to confirm the account number from which the cash was to be drawn. I had dropped a digit in the middle of the account number when I entered it. It took all of 15 seconds for him to discover and fix the problem after I'd spoken with 4 separate people over the course of 30 minutes.
Thank God I wasn't making a last minute payment for which I would have been charged for missing it.
I called the credit card company, explained the situation, mentioned that I had just signed up for the payment service, perhaps there was a problem there. They, said "no", and told me that I had to call my bank. (One and the same company by the way.) But first, he tried to sell me account "insurance". Yeah, something just went wrong with a transaction and you want me to BUY something from you idiots.
I called the bank number and explained the situation. They told me I had to speak to an online account specialist and I was transferred once again. Umm, if you have to speak to a different department regarding online transactions, why do they post the standard number on the webpage? The woman I finally got there told me there was nothing wrong with our account (i.e., plenty of cash) and she had no record of the transaction at all. She then said I needed to speak to the credit card company--back to the very beginning--however, she was able to transfer me directly to "collections".
After 10 minutes on hold, I got another guy who asked if I'd spoken to my bank. I think I deserve massive credit for not screaming obscenities into the phone at this point. He pulled up the transaction histories and asked me to confirm the account number from which the cash was to be drawn. I had dropped a digit in the middle of the account number when I entered it. It took all of 15 seconds for him to discover and fix the problem after I'd spoken with 4 separate people over the course of 30 minutes.
Thank God I wasn't making a last minute payment for which I would have been charged for missing it.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
It's the big one!
I've decided several of the principals at this firm must fear earthquakes. It's the only reason I can think of that they INSIST on standing in the doorways of high traffic public areas.
Monday, August 15, 2005
When you got it...flaunt it!
Jen came to Greg's show on Friday night wearing a really low cut top. It's too bad that she didn't understand the power she possessed and then, after far too short a time, gave away...
When we went down to the piano bar after the show, the 60-ish woman with Mike Ditka's haircut tending bar gave us the happy hour discount while pointedly asking who we were--it was reminiscent of the good ol' days at the Racc on the upper east side. Alas, silly Jennifer didn't realize how very abruptly happy hour would end when she announced that I was Greg's fiancee.
Well, at least the younger boy in Greg's show remained attentive--but a 24-year old actor isn't in any position to be buying the drinks.
When we went down to the piano bar after the show, the 60-ish woman with Mike Ditka's haircut tending bar gave us the happy hour discount while pointedly asking who we were--it was reminiscent of the good ol' days at the Racc on the upper east side. Alas, silly Jennifer didn't realize how very abruptly happy hour would end when she announced that I was Greg's fiancee.
Well, at least the younger boy in Greg's show remained attentive--but a 24-year old actor isn't in any position to be buying the drinks.
Whappo!!!
At the farmer's market on Saturday, I ripped a new one in a political flunky for a democratic mayoral candidate. This guy, and his entourage of 8, was working the farmer's market. It was like watching the Red Sea part as people stopped shopping at the stands and ran away from him. I couldn't get near the candidate, but I did yell quite loudly at the campaign guy on his disregard for working people trying to make a living. His response: 1)I was accused of "not understanding how politics work" 2) I was accused of being a Republican.
The summary of my shopping trip:
Eggs: $3
Peaches: $4
The look on the guy's face when I said I hate the current administration and am a registered democrat, but I wouldn't vote for anyone who was showing himself to be just like the president in his lack of understanding of what it takes to make a living: Priceless.
The summary of my shopping trip:
Eggs: $3
Peaches: $4
The look on the guy's face when I said I hate the current administration and am a registered democrat, but I wouldn't vote for anyone who was showing himself to be just like the president in his lack of understanding of what it takes to make a living: Priceless.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Just wacky!
There is no law against first cousins marrying each other in New York State. All familial prohibitions are based on the ancestor/descendent and sibling relationships:
"A marriage may not take place in New York State between an ancestor and descendant (that is, a parent, grandparent, etc. and an offspring (child)), a brother and sister (full or half blood), an uncle and niece or an aunt and nephew, regardless of whether or not these persons are legitimate or illegitimate offspring. There is no legal bar against marriage between cousins."
This may explain a lot...
"A marriage may not take place in New York State between an ancestor and descendant (that is, a parent, grandparent, etc. and an offspring (child)), a brother and sister (full or half blood), an uncle and niece or an aunt and nephew, regardless of whether or not these persons are legitimate or illegitimate offspring. There is no legal bar against marriage between cousins."
This may explain a lot...
Friday, August 05, 2005
Passing Judgement
This morning I realized that I should write out the makeup instructions for Olga and Rustini, 'cause there's no guarantee I'll get to the cabaret tonight in time to do all three of them. I also packed up the recycling and said goodbye to my fiance (he has the day off). Thus, I left the apartment at 10:30.
I dropped the recycling in the basement, walked up to leave and Mr. Henry, our grandfatherly Jamaican doorman was at his post. He looked at me sternly and said reprimandingly, "You slept late dis mornin', didn't you?" "Well, no. I had a lot of chores to take care of in the apartment." "Okay den. You have a package." There was the definite implication that I wouldn't have been given my package had I slept in.
He does not approve of laziness and you can hear his scorn whenever he announces that we have a grocery delivery. Luckily for us, I get up very early on Saturday mornings to go to the farmer's market--it counters the occasional delivery.
You don't mess with Mr. Henry. (Yes, Henry is his surname.) He's very old school--he takes his job very seriously and you'd better treat him and what he does with respect. If you do, he's absolutely great. If one is snobby or too familiar...he can and will make one's life difficult. I've heard prospective tenants ranting in the elevator about how it took 5 minutes to get the keys to see an apartment. My immediate thought was: "If Henry doesn't want you living here neither do we."
We love Henry. Greg's giving him the engagement news today. He'll be just as pleased as my mom and Greg's grandmother.
I dropped the recycling in the basement, walked up to leave and Mr. Henry, our grandfatherly Jamaican doorman was at his post. He looked at me sternly and said reprimandingly, "You slept late dis mornin', didn't you?" "Well, no. I had a lot of chores to take care of in the apartment." "Okay den. You have a package." There was the definite implication that I wouldn't have been given my package had I slept in.
He does not approve of laziness and you can hear his scorn whenever he announces that we have a grocery delivery. Luckily for us, I get up very early on Saturday mornings to go to the farmer's market--it counters the occasional delivery.
You don't mess with Mr. Henry. (Yes, Henry is his surname.) He's very old school--he takes his job very seriously and you'd better treat him and what he does with respect. If you do, he's absolutely great. If one is snobby or too familiar...he can and will make one's life difficult. I've heard prospective tenants ranting in the elevator about how it took 5 minutes to get the keys to see an apartment. My immediate thought was: "If Henry doesn't want you living here neither do we."
We love Henry. Greg's giving him the engagement news today. He'll be just as pleased as my mom and Greg's grandmother.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
And they say romance is dead...
So Monday night, due to some workplace angst, I was feelin' the need for some cheesy comfort food while Greg was at rehearsal. The only deep dish place doesn't deliver, so I went for the cheesy spinach artichoke dip and a salad from a southern place. Perhaps a bit too cheesy. Half the dip and 1/4 of the salad later I was in a world of hurt. By the time Greg got home at 10, I was out of the bathroom, but at the computer concentrating intently on a game of freecell 'cause it distracted from the stomach cramps while still being in immediate proximity of the loo. He was so informed.
I got the "Poor Schnoodle..." head stroke and then..."so would it make you feel a little less adrift if we were to get married?" Probing look. "Um, I'm good with the married, I just don't think feeling insecure is the reason to do it." "Well, of course that's NOT the reason, and I will ask again in a more traditional way, but I was thinking we should probably do it this year anyway..." We grinned, made a face and I went back to concentrating on ignoring the cramps.
Tuesday night we went to our regular pub for dinner, and over our cheddar burgers we talked some more and he officially proposed. No, no bended knee, no flowers, there was candlelight, but then the place is so dark you need the candles to read the menu.
My brother was appalled by the lack of romantic gesture...but really, the fact that he wanted to ask me to marry him even when I was in intestinal distress is better than flowers any day.
I got the "Poor Schnoodle..." head stroke and then..."so would it make you feel a little less adrift if we were to get married?" Probing look. "Um, I'm good with the married, I just don't think feeling insecure is the reason to do it." "Well, of course that's NOT the reason, and I will ask again in a more traditional way, but I was thinking we should probably do it this year anyway..." We grinned, made a face and I went back to concentrating on ignoring the cramps.
Tuesday night we went to our regular pub for dinner, and over our cheddar burgers we talked some more and he officially proposed. No, no bended knee, no flowers, there was candlelight, but then the place is so dark you need the candles to read the menu.
My brother was appalled by the lack of romantic gesture...but really, the fact that he wanted to ask me to marry him even when I was in intestinal distress is better than flowers any day.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Okay, does this really still need to be there?
We had dinner with our old neighbors on Saturday. They moved two blocks away, so travel was convenient. He's from Wales, she's from North Carolina. They're getting married in South Carolina in November and had the wedding regs at the apartment.
Did you know that if you were living together by choice before emancipation, you are considered legally married in South Carolina? However, this rule is void for couples who didn't start living together until after August 19th, 1872--then it is required that they be married by an official.
Yes, this is still on the books.
Did you know that if you were living together by choice before emancipation, you are considered legally married in South Carolina? However, this rule is void for couples who didn't start living together until after August 19th, 1872--then it is required that they be married by an official.
Yes, this is still on the books.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Comments on the trip home...
So, Greg and I were in the homeland for my mom's 70th birthday last week. (I'm sorry to those of you we didn't see, but we were in intense family mode and by 10 pm were generally asleep.)
I knew what I was getting my mom for her birthday, I went in to pick it up only to discover they didn't carry it any more.
Thus, on the day, Greg and I are running all over town to find a gift, leading to the most amusing run-in of the trip. We had been to Great Estates earlier in the day and my mom was enraptured with some crystal pitchers. There was a large one that was gorgeous, but she'd freaked over the price (my mom has some money issues) so I was looking at a smaller one that I didn't like half as well. As I was checking out with one S.W., I was explaining the situation. Her words: "It's her 70th birthday! What's the matter with you?!"
I'm glad she did. My mom was quite pleased with the larger vase, and so was I.
I knew what I was getting my mom for her birthday, I went in to pick it up only to discover they didn't carry it any more.
Thus, on the day, Greg and I are running all over town to find a gift, leading to the most amusing run-in of the trip. We had been to Great Estates earlier in the day and my mom was enraptured with some crystal pitchers. There was a large one that was gorgeous, but she'd freaked over the price (my mom has some money issues) so I was looking at a smaller one that I didn't like half as well. As I was checking out with one S.W., I was explaining the situation. Her words: "It's her 70th birthday! What's the matter with you?!"
I'm glad she did. My mom was quite pleased with the larger vase, and so was I.
My skeletal struggle...
Yesterday I had a headache at the back of my head. At first, I thought I was having a stroke. Then I reached behind me to rub my neck. The muscles didn't give at all. Seriously, I have relatively strong fingers and I couldn't even dent my skin. I walked out of work to the local nail salon for a 20 minute chair massage. It helped some.
Fast forward to last night: I'm taking my bowl to the sink (after a lovely chicken paprikash on rice with a dollop of Greek yogurt and sliced cucumbers from the deck) and my back spasmed so hard that I swear my ribs were jerked out of their sockets. I've had spasms before, but always little twinges in the lower back, this was a really long contraction of the big muscle on the right side of my spine. It actually hurt my ribs to breathe for the next half hour--scared the hell out of me until I realized the cause:
Saturday night we went to see Wedding Crashers (hysterical, by the way) and as I was crossing the street, I turned to see what was holding Greg up as he paid for the cab and tripped on a plastic barrier. My mistake was not letting myself fall, but jerking myself upright.
So my words of wisdom: choose the scrapes.
Fast forward to last night: I'm taking my bowl to the sink (after a lovely chicken paprikash on rice with a dollop of Greek yogurt and sliced cucumbers from the deck) and my back spasmed so hard that I swear my ribs were jerked out of their sockets. I've had spasms before, but always little twinges in the lower back, this was a really long contraction of the big muscle on the right side of my spine. It actually hurt my ribs to breathe for the next half hour--scared the hell out of me until I realized the cause:
Saturday night we went to see Wedding Crashers (hysterical, by the way) and as I was crossing the street, I turned to see what was holding Greg up as he paid for the cab and tripped on a plastic barrier. My mistake was not letting myself fall, but jerking myself upright.
So my words of wisdom: choose the scrapes.
Monday, June 27, 2005
The Ghosts Strike again...
Saturday night's show: Olga came within an inch of totally losing her top. I'm tellin' you, there's something weird going on there... They've had several dozen shows, but this series, in this space, is the only one with wardrobe issues.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Ghosts of Strippers Past...
So Greg has a show running in a new space. A renovated strip club in Times Square that has been purchased and is being set up as a general theater space. The new owners have pulled out the old fixtures and repainted, but I don't think they've entirely managed to exorcise the past.
We were there for rehearsal on Sunday. I sat in the audience observing, occasionally getting up to fetch something. EVERY TIME I got up, I noticed that the strap on my right sandal needed to be refastened. Okay, it's just velcro, but it was the first and only time it's ever happened. (And no, I was not cricketing my feet together.) I joked about ghosts wanting a little more action.
Then came last night and the wardrobe malfunction to end all wardrobe malfunctions.
There's a fan dancer in the show. She comes out in a white ball gown with giant fans, dances about to a waltz and eventually drops the dress, but remains primarily covered by the fans, deftly switching them to expose her feathered pasties and g-string for a split second with each switch. Well, during last night's show she'd dropped the dress, continued the dance and then she suddenly froze. The chain on her g-string had come undone. She couldn't refasten it without dropping the fans and if she dropped the fans she'd be naked. Conundrum, indeed. In the end, Gabi saved the day by coming over and reattaching the chain so she could continue. In five years as a burlesque dancer, this woman has NEVER had a costume fall off.
My ghost theory is gaining popularity. Wonder what's going to happen tomorrow night...
We were there for rehearsal on Sunday. I sat in the audience observing, occasionally getting up to fetch something. EVERY TIME I got up, I noticed that the strap on my right sandal needed to be refastened. Okay, it's just velcro, but it was the first and only time it's ever happened. (And no, I was not cricketing my feet together.) I joked about ghosts wanting a little more action.
Then came last night and the wardrobe malfunction to end all wardrobe malfunctions.
There's a fan dancer in the show. She comes out in a white ball gown with giant fans, dances about to a waltz and eventually drops the dress, but remains primarily covered by the fans, deftly switching them to expose her feathered pasties and g-string for a split second with each switch. Well, during last night's show she'd dropped the dress, continued the dance and then she suddenly froze. The chain on her g-string had come undone. She couldn't refasten it without dropping the fans and if she dropped the fans she'd be naked. Conundrum, indeed. In the end, Gabi saved the day by coming over and reattaching the chain so she could continue. In five years as a burlesque dancer, this woman has NEVER had a costume fall off.
My ghost theory is gaining popularity. Wonder what's going to happen tomorrow night...
Monday, June 06, 2005
Maybe we aren't doomed after all...
I was taking the PATH train to a baby shower in Jersey City this weekend. I'd been waiting in an airless filthy station for 25 minutes for the train along with about 30 other people. Among them was a group of 4 kids, ranging in age from 10-14, with a small, beaten up boom box playing old school rap--it wasn't that loud, but it really echoed in the tunnel.
The train finally pulled in, we piled on, and the group of 4 was split up. The youngest asked the one holding the boom box to turn it up so he could hear it across the aisle. The response from the adolescent in question: "People are trying to read. And sleep. We don't want to bother them. Turn it up?! That's just ignorant!"
The train finally pulled in, we piled on, and the group of 4 was split up. The youngest asked the one holding the boom box to turn it up so he could hear it across the aisle. The response from the adolescent in question: "People are trying to read. And sleep. We don't want to bother them. Turn it up?! That's just ignorant!"
Friday, May 27, 2005
I may have to start watching Law & Order again...
Did you all see that Tom DeLay is up in arms about the "unflattering" reference to his name in the season finale of "Law & Order"?
From the Reuters article by Steve Gorman:
"DeLay's name surfaced on Wednesday night on the show's season finale, which centered on the fictional slayings of two judges by suspected right-wing extremists.
In the episode, police are frustrated by a lack of clues, leading one officer to quip, "Maybe we should put out an APB (all-points-bulletin) for somebody in a Tom DeLay T-shirt."...
Producer Dick Wolf, creator of the "Law & Order" franchise, took a swipe at DeLay in his own statement on Thursday, saying, "I ... congratulate Congressman DeLay for switching the spotlight from his own problems to an episode of a TV show."
From the Reuters article by Steve Gorman:
"DeLay's name surfaced on Wednesday night on the show's season finale, which centered on the fictional slayings of two judges by suspected right-wing extremists.
In the episode, police are frustrated by a lack of clues, leading one officer to quip, "Maybe we should put out an APB (all-points-bulletin) for somebody in a Tom DeLay T-shirt."...
Producer Dick Wolf, creator of the "Law & Order" franchise, took a swipe at DeLay in his own statement on Thursday, saying, "I ... congratulate Congressman DeLay for switching the spotlight from his own problems to an episode of a TV show."
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Only in the homeland...
Excerpt from an Oshkosh Northwestern obituary for a 28-year old:
"Unfortunately he was an avid Chicago Bears fan."
"Unfortunately he was an avid Chicago Bears fan."
Monday, May 09, 2005
Not-so-high light of the weekend.
Saturday evening we got a mayday call from a friend that woke us from a wine-tasting afternoon inspired nap. We were out the door in less than an hour.
This past Thursday a process server arrived at his door--he's being sued for child support. He has a 7-month old son. He's absolutely devastated, 'cause he probably won't have much or any say in the upbringing of his child who's being raised in a house of lunatics (grandpa dons protective gear to open the refrigerator--I kid you not) and there's little he can do about it 'cause paternal rights are relatively limited if you don't have the resources to flat out sue for custody, especially if you "haven't shown an interest" for the first months. It was a wrenching evening. Sometimes-bitter venting was interspersed with things like, "Do you think his eyes are blue or brown?" and on the lighter side, comments like "Why the hell did she have to name him that?"
Really glad Mother's Day was postponed to next weekend...a day in the Bronx after that would not have been pleasant.
This past Thursday a process server arrived at his door--he's being sued for child support. He has a 7-month old son. He's absolutely devastated, 'cause he probably won't have much or any say in the upbringing of his child who's being raised in a house of lunatics (grandpa dons protective gear to open the refrigerator--I kid you not) and there's little he can do about it 'cause paternal rights are relatively limited if you don't have the resources to flat out sue for custody, especially if you "haven't shown an interest" for the first months. It was a wrenching evening. Sometimes-bitter venting was interspersed with things like, "Do you think his eyes are blue or brown?" and on the lighter side, comments like "Why the hell did she have to name him that?"
Really glad Mother's Day was postponed to next weekend...a day in the Bronx after that would not have been pleasant.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
I have "humours" all right!
I've scheduled my Spring reflexology treatment for tomorrow morning. The change in season makes me feel off and discombobulated and this gets me all adjusted/restores the balance of my humours. I only wish I were going tonight so I'd sleep better.
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